Memories
by loonygirl22
Summary: We've always known this day would come and it has always been inevitable, even for creatures like us. Clara/Christian


_**A/N:**_ Hello, Unearthly readers! I just needed to do something after Boundless and this is what I came up with. Enjoy!

Dedicated to **Anettbianka**.

* * *

"Dream, memory, or vision?" she softly asks.

My eyes slowly open and I register her fingers as they comb through my hair. It's still dark, and I'm sure it's barely two in the morning. I turn towards her and give her a small smile. Shifting myself on our bed, I nestle my head on the crook of her neck. I pull her close and her arms tighten around me in return.

"Just a dream," I murmur. "I dreamt of mom. I don't remember much but I can tell she's happy, wherever we were in the dream."

Her fingers resume their exploration. "Are you sure it wasn't a memory?"

I consider her question seriously, and I try to remember the dream again. If it was a memory or a vision, I would've remembered it thoroughly, down to the smallest of details. But I'm like every other person on the planet when it comes to normal dreams though. Sometimes, they're as vivid as the others but there are times when I forget parts or all of it completely. That's when I can truly differentiate what they are.

"Definitely a dream," I say. I shift my head to look up at her. "What's wrong, honey?"

She looks back at me and smiles. "Just made me think about _my_ mom."

My hand reaches for hers and gives it a light squeeze. She may be the empath between the two of us but I've been her husband for more than half a century. I know what she's feeling, even if we're miles apart. I wait for her to continue.

"She doesn't say it or even act like it but I know she's not doing great. Your mom's gone and he's already showing signs of weakness now, and it won't be long until…" she trails off. I shift our positions so that I'm the one who's cradling her.

"It's going to be okay. We're all going to be okay," I whisper to her.

We stay quiet for a while. We've always known this day would come and it has always been inevitable, even for creatures like us. Within the span of four years, we would lose the ones we loved the most. It started with my mother two months ago and we would have three more funerals soon.

"Web?" she starts.

"Yeah?" I ask as I draw random patterns on her arm.

"Don't you think he deserves more time? With mom, I mean. I just don't think twelve years together is enough."

"You do realize he isn't your dad, right?" I tickle her to let her know I'm just teasing. I agree with her, of course.

She tickles me back. "When you get to my age, kid, you'll realize that you can love more than one person at a time."

"I _am_ older than you, little lady."

"But I _look_ older," she winks. "Anyway, I always knew she loved him, even if she didn't know it yet. My mother can be incredibly dense sometimes," she laughs and I join her. Her mother can be described by a lot of things but dense can only be used when it comes to her own feelings.

"You know, even your dad knew it. He even told my uncle about it," I say to her. Her heart beat suddenly spikes and she lifts herself on her elbow to look down at me.

"He does? Is it a memory? Can you show me?" she stares at me intently.

"Margot, are you sure?" I ask her. I seldom do this but I think she needs this now.

I could never fully comprehend the extent of my ability. It started when I was fairly young, and I always thought it was normal. My mom would be surprised when I'd say something my grandma used to say or that I knew she once intentionally had a B+ on a test because her classmates used to tease her that she's such a "smarty pants". I also knew she went back and secretly asked her teacher if she could have a makeup test and that her teacher didn't let her.

As it turned out, I had visions of both the future and the past. My future and people's memories. It was pretty cool knowing stuff, like where mom and Uncle Christian hid my gifts for Christmas or when playing hide and seek. Unlike Uncle Christian's mind reading abilities, I can pluck the memories of people around me, even if they weren't thinking about it at that particular moment. As I grew older, I learned how to control it—induce and stop—whenever I wanted to.

It was a good thing too since it can get unbearably awkward. For a time there, I couldn't look at Uncle Jeffrey in the eye. He'd just smile smugly and tease me about it.

Margot readies herself and gets into a more comfortable position on my side. Maybe this was why Uncle Tucker showed me this memory. I give him a small prayer of thanks.

I rest my hand on her face and let the memory consume us.

…

It's the day of our wedding, the first one of many, and I can see Margot and myself dancing our first as husband and wife. I never really took a step back and looked at all the work my family put into this shindig. The lighting, the décor, the simplicity of it all is exquisite. Because I was so focused on not messing anything up, I was a nervous wreck back then. That was until the moment I saw her walking down the aisle towards me. After that, everything I can think of was her and only her. Now, looking at it like this, I'm very thankful for everyone who made this possible.

I see us again and past-Margot looks so beautiful and blissfully happy that I'm not really sure how I managed to get her to say yes to me. I glance back at present-Margot in her pyjamas beside me and she's still beautiful as she was after all these years. I take her hand and kiss her forehead. I would never for the rest of my long life forget this moment.

Since this isn't our memory, it guides us back to where Uncle Tucker and Uncle Christian were.

I hear Margot gasp beside me. She hasn't seen her dad for almost forty years now.

"I'm okay, let's hear what dad wants to say," she whispers even though no one can hear or see us. I give her hand a squeeze and lead her closer to them.

"Do you remember the time when Clara stopped us from beating the crap out of each other during her mom's funeral?" Uncle Tucker says with a laugh.

"I seem to remember _I_ beat the crap out of _you_," Uncle Christian retorts good-naturedly as he lifts his glass towards Uncle Tucker.

"Matter of perspectives, Prescott." They toast and look back at crowd around them. Uncle Tucker's eyes land on the beautiful blonde who's forcing her brother to dance with her. Uncle Christian discretely looks anywhere but that.

"Must've been really hard for Uncle Christian," Margot whispers again.

"Yeah," I say back. I didn't figure it out early on that Uncle Christian had feelings for her. Back then, everything was black and white. Heaven and Hell. Salt and pepper. Uncle Tucker and Aunt Clara. That's the fact. And I never really got anything from Uncle Christian other than his memories of him and his mom, him and Uncle Walter, and him and me. It was later on that I realized that he was closing off this part of himself to me.

He always had girlfriends through the years, and they always come and go. He always seemed happy to me. Normal. It wasn't until he taught me how to call glory, really call on it, that I got a peek at what he was hiding.

"_I love you," he murmurs to Aunt Clara. "Can you feel that? You. Not some destiny I think I'm called to. You. I'm with you. My strength. My soul. My heart. Feel it."_

I was so shocked at what I saw that I stumbled backwards and fell on my ass. Uncle Christian was over me in less than a second.

"Web, what's wrong?" he asked, panic in his voice.

"You. And Aunt Clara. What?" I couldn't even form my statements. His face went blank and then he looked at me.

That was when I understood everything.

Uncle Tucker clears his throat and glances back at Uncle Christian. "I never really got the chance to thank you about before."

"About what?"

"About being there for her when I couldn't," he says quietly.

I can tell that Uncle Christian is surprised at this. "C'mon Friar Tuck, that's so last year, it's more like thirty odd years ago."

Uncle Tucker ignores his jab and pours himself another glass. "Do you want to know a secret?"

"A prophecy from the prophet? Go ahead, master." Uncle Christian jokes.

Uncle Tucker looks intently at him and pauses for dramatic effect. Uncle Christian sets his glass down on the bar and fully turns towards him. "Tucker?"

"You'll fall in love again," Uncle Tucker informs him, as if he was commenting on the weather. "Soon, in fact."

Uncle Christian stares at him seriously and then bursts out laughing.

"Wow, Tucker. Thank you for that." He takes his glass again and chugs his drink. His still chuckling after he finishes. "I don't need a prophet to know that."

"You've already met her, actually. A long time ago. It'll happen, Chris. And when it does, some part of my wife will feel something about it."

That stops Uncle Christian on his tracks. He stares at his friend again. Margot fidgets at my side. She's silently asking the question Uncle Christian will blurt out.

"Why are you doing this?"

Uncle Tucker contemplates his answer before shaking his head. "I'm an old man. I have a free pass to say whatever I want."

Margot sighs at her father's statement. She knew that the "age difference" between her parents had crossed her father's mind. Margot even thought about this with us for a while, with her looking like she was in her forties and me looking barely thirty. At the most, and if I wore age appropriate clothing. Either way, the nine years I have on her didn't matter.

On the other hand, it was an entirely different situation with her parents. Uncle Tucker, even if he was healthy like he was in his twenties, looked nothing like a twenty year old. Even if it was never an issue with Aunt Clara, it was always a sensitive subject which was never mentioned.

"Tucker," Uncle Christian starts.

"No, I'm sorry. I just wanted you to know. And since I'm such a great prophet, I'll tell you one last thing. There will come a time when you'd need each other again. And you'll be there for her, as she will be with you. So thank you, in advanced for that. And trust me, everything will work out in the end."

…

The memory is cut short and we are now back in our room, on our bed. No time has passed.

Margot and I stare each other for a long time. "Thank you, Web," she says softly.

"No problem," I say as my fingers wipe away her tears.

"Why do you think he did that?" she asks after a while.

I catch a blonde curl and twirl it around my finger. "I think he did it to test him. To see what he'd do when he knew what was foretold."

"Dad said he'd fall in love soon. But didn't Aunt Sarah come a few years later?"

"Maybe soon is a relative term."

She shifts and rests her chin on my chest. "Or maybe he fought it."

* * *

I trudge up the stone path to my mother's plot. Leaving Margot a note, I slipped out and found myself at the entrance of Aspen Hill Cemetery. The early morning rays are just starting to peek at the horizon and it gives a light glow outlining the mountains. It's peaceful here and I'm glad. I never imagined a better place for my mom's body to rest. She was a beautiful woman, inside and out. She was so fierce, so smart, and I thank the big man upstairs that I got to spend more than a century with her.

I stop a few paces from my mother's final resting place. A young couple is sitting on a stone bench near mom. The girl's hand never leaves the boy's hand as she wraps a blanket over his shoulders.

At this, I'm transported. A barrage of memories hit me.

…

"Christian!" she calls out. The scorching fire is almost near the boy standing with his back towards her. He slowly turns.

…

White. Everything is white. Two figures are flailing on the snow. Nothing could be heard except for their laughter.

…

I'm at a school cafeteria and my mom and Aunt Clara are huddled on a table. Uncle Christian walks in with a beautiful girl. Uncle Christian keeps himself from looking at their general direction. Aunt Clara follows them with her eyes. My mom smirks.

…

They're covered in soot. The dim light on the porch casts a low shadow. He lifts his hand to her cheek but stops as the door opens.

…

"You're doing it." Light. Bright light washes all over the theatre. He smiles at her like she's the answer to everything in all his life. She smiles at him like there wasn't a question in the first place.

…

They're in a cemetery. This cemetery. A lone rose blooms near a bench much like the one on his mother's side. "This is the part where I kiss you."

…

Their feet are dangling from the eaves. He pulls her close and wraps an arm around her. "I miss her." She cries. He wants to cry with her.

…

"Keep up!" he yells at her as if she's lagging behind.

"We should've just kept it to going out for coffee. I have a class in like, _sixteen hours_, you know!" She makes a show of being tired but they both know she's far from it.

"Oh, we have to hurry up then!" He jogs past her.

"I hate you!"

He goes back and whispers, "There's a fine line between hate and love."

"There's also a fine line between my fist and your throat."

They laugh all the way to the coffee shop.

…

There's a baby boy, sleeping on a makeshift crib. It's me.

She turns to him. "Will we ever see her again, Christian?" She's close to tears.

He doesn't stop looking at the child but he touches her hand instead.

…

He nears the open window. His expression is conflicted and resolute at the same time. He leaves her.

A goodbye.

…

It's my fifth birthday. The party is in full swing. He, Uncle Jeffrey and Uncle Tucker run around and try to catch me and my friends with their water balloons. Uncle Tucker rounds a corner and surprise attacks her instead. She's soaking wet. Uncle Tucker picks her up and all the kids laugh at his "trophy". She gives him a quick kiss and laughs with everyone. Her eyes scan the backyard. He isn't there.

…

It's an adult night and we're all at a bar. She and mom go to the ladies room while the boys play beer pong. He loses and is dared to go to the cute brunette at the bar and ask for her number. When she returns, she spots him and the cute brunette. She stands there for a while before snapping out of her senses.

The cute brunette is Aunt Sarah.

I look at Uncle Tucker and see that he sees this too. He has a solemn smile on his face.

…

They're having those silent conversations again.

"Christian," she pleads out loud after a while.

He looks at her seriously. "Of course I won't let anything happen to him."

"Mom, it's just a camping trip. Web will be there!" Liam says while hefting his camping gear.

"Maybe I should go with you."

"C'mon mom, it's just me, Uncle Christian and Web. You'll be cramping our style." Liam smiles and kisses her cheek.

"Yeah, _mom_. You'll be cramping our style," he smirks.

"If anything happens to him, Prescott—"

"Nothing will happen to him, Avery."

…

Margot plays at the playground with the other kids.

"You really built this, huh?" she asks, in awe. We're at one of Uncle Christian's biggest and highly acclaimed buildings.

"Are you doubting my mad skills?" he winks at her.

"Of course not. It's so beautiful, Christian."

"Yeah, so beautiful." She doesn't notice that he's looking at her while he said that.

…

It was one of our family gatherings. I remember this was the first time he brought Aunt Sarah. I see them both walk down the path to her and Uncle Tucker's. She's looking out the window.

She sees his face.

She knows the girl with him is the one.

The party outside is in full swing, but he and Liam are talking in hushed tones in the kitchen.

…

"What do I do, Uncle Christian?"

"What do _you_ think you should do?"

Liam sighs. "I hate it when you answer my questions with questions."

"Well, what else is there to do?"

"You've been in the same situation before, right? Web said so."

"Mine's different."

Liam walks closer to him. "How is it different? I'm going to be fighting someone soon and this girl whom I haven't even met yet will be there and all I could think about is how I'm going to save her and how I'm going to keep her safe. And that I love her. That's the kicker! What about Erica then? Should I break up with her now, knowing in the end I'll love someone else in the near future?"

He averts his gaze from Liam. "To be fair, I didn't know I loved her or would love her when I had my first vision."

"You didn't?"

"Nope," he starts. "But, I did know that my life was directed that way so I broke things off with Kay, my girlfriend at the time."

"So I should break-up with Erica?"

"I'm just sharing what happened with me. My advice to you, kid, is to stick to your guns. Just follow your heart and the vision will follow. You can still change it. You have free will. You control everything, remember that."

"Did you regret it? Breaking things off, following what your vision 'told' you to do?"

He takes his time before answering. "No, not really. If I didn't do the things I did, if I didn't give myself to my mystery dream girl fully, I think she wouldn't have done what she was supposed to do like saving the world and whatnot. She's pretty kick ass, let me tell you."

"But isn't that unfair to you? Loving her the way you did? After all that. I mean, I know your story was from before all of us kids were born, right? So you definitely didn't end up with your dream girl since you met Aunt Sarah just a few years back."

"Hey, your Aunt Sarah is my dream girl."

Liam looks at him intently.

"Okay, Sarah is the _right_ dream girl." Uncle Christian sighs. "Anyway, I don't look at it that way. She had her happy ending and all I wanted was for her to be happy. In the grand scheme of things, I helped her achieve that so I'm happy."

"Wow," Liam breathes out heavily. He glances back at Uncle Christian and gives him a smirk. "That's just girly."

He claps Liam on his back. "Well, your _girly_ uncle will still kick your ass in training. While blindfolded. And tied to a chair. And—"

"I get it, I get it!" They both laugh all the way to the living room.

He doesn't see her listening from the back door.

…

"Are you happy?"

"Yes. Si. Oui. Igen. Da. Shi."

"Okay, I get it. You're smart."

He shoves his shoulder onto hers gently. He gives her a small smile. "I haven't felt like this in a long time is all."

She looks at him and says, "I'm glad."

…

I hate this day. The rain is pouring sheets and it's like our emotions are controlling the weather. Everyone is gathered in the living room. They're all ready to go to Aspen Hill.

I follow him to Aunt Clara and Uncle Tucker's bedroom.

"Clara?" he asks gently. She looks up and her face is blank. Numb. She clutches a picture of Uncle Tucker.

He takes her hand.

…

Time passes. They accidentally bump into each other in Paris. They eat at a café near the Eiffel Tower. They laugh as they reminisce. My mother joins them a little later.

He buys something in a store for Aunt Sarah and leaves her and mom on the cobbled streets outside.

"Will you ever tell him how you feel?" mom asks.

She just stares as he walks away.

…

A decade over. Nothing changes. They go and see the world separately.

…

A few years later, she arrives and immediately takes his hand in hers. Everyone looks on as they lower Aunt Sarah down the ground.

…

More years.

His feet touch the ground.

He walks around with a small smile on his face. The fire from almost a century ago is long gone.

"Ninety-four years later and you still have your back towards me. I'm starting to think it's going to give me a complex."

He turns and smiles at her.

She slowly closes the gap between them. "Would you like to go out with me?"

He smiles. They finally meet again.

…

I open my eyes and I'm at Aspen Hill. My eyes focus on the couple in front of me. Aunt Clara is looking back at me now with a smile on her face.

"Come over here, Webster. Give your Aunt Clara a big hug." She waves me over. I reach them and they scoot over to give me space in the middle. I feel like a little kid again, with both of them by my side. I can feel the sadness beginning to take over.

Aunt Clara places her hand on mine and rests her head on my shoulder. Uncle Christian reaches behind me and rubs her shoulder.

_Take care of her for me, buddy._

I look at him and nod. I get it now. They may have only had a short time as husband and wife but they had a lifetime of memories together to make up for it.

A tear rolls down my cheek. Uncle Christian ruffles my hair like he always does.

We watch the sunrise together.


End file.
